“I’d never want to give you that burden.”
“I don’t see it as a burden, and if it ever became one, I’d rather we shared it.”
Michael met her gaze and curled his fingers around the back of her neck. “Woman, I’m crazy about you.”
“You mean…a great deal to me too.”
“I want to make you come again. I can’t think straight unless I’m inside you.”
He brushed his thumb against her lower lip, parting them. His thumb touched her tongue and he painted her mouth with her moisture. Moaning, Michael kissed her, sliding his tongue between her lips.
Emily held him tight, moved by his words but terrified at the depth of his emotion. She’d sworn to give him time, to give him space, but in truth she wasn’t sure she was capable of doing so. It wasn’t in her nature to avoid a discussion, and at some point, she’d need to talk to him. She was convinced his sadness stemmed from never discussing the shooting with anyone. More than anything, she would have loved to see him embrace the idea of a formal recognition by the police services, but knew he wasn’t ready to accept the praise. Somehow, he still thought he was at fault.
How would she ever help him move forward?
You can’t fix someone who won’t admit he’s broken.
“I need you.” He picked her up and carried her back to bed.
Even though she knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind, she needed him too. She might not be able to help him deal with his PTSD, but she could give him this. Perhaps in losing himself in her body he could find a small piece of himself.
Michael retrieved a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on. He touched her sex and found her wet. Even though she wasn’t in the mood, she always seemed to be wet around him. Her body knew something she didn’t. He lay atop her, breached her entrance, and sank deep inside.
So full. So good. She wanted him inside her forever. Emily smoothed her hands toward his backside and held on to him like a penitent clutching a rosary.
He burrowed his face against her neck. “God, Em. You help me forget everything.”
She provided him with oblivion. She wasn’t sure if that pleased her or not, especially given the fact he made her all too aware. Aware of her pumping heart, aware of her fears for him. Aware of how fast she was falling too. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the air against her face as she plummeted.
As she came, she cried out. He said he was crazy about her and she understood the sentiment behind those words. He might be capable of falling in love with her. She wished she could shout the same words, but they wouldn’t pass her lips. Hopefully he’d understand. She wanted to love him but she was in no position to know her own mind on that score. God willing, he wouldn’t feel deflated hearing only the choked sobs of her orgasm.
He came as well but on a silent shudder. He lay still for a moment, his hips jerking with the final spasms. Panting, he rose and went to dispose of the condom in the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the taps.
Her mind racing, Emily slid out of bed and retrieved the crumpled awards reception invitation, smoothing it out.
R.S.V.P. by July 31.
He needed to respond. What if he didn’t? Would he hate himself later for not attending such a momentous occasion?
Maybe she could respond for him. She had enough time to broach the subject and make him understand. Perhaps, after a couple of months, he’d feel better and able to attend the event. She could see him now, dressed in a suit, so handsome. He’d shake hands with the Chief of Police and might finally understand the impact of his noble actions.
It would be so easy to slip the invitation into her purse. The handbag was slung over a chair, mere feet away. He probably wouldn’t even miss it. From the looks of it, he’d already tossed it into the trash.
Then again, if she deceived Michael and took a piece of mail that was clearly for his eyes only, he might hate her forever. How could she expect honesty from him if she wasn’t prepared to demonstrate it in return?
Instead, Emily quickly reread the invitation and memorized the name of the person requesting responses. Mary Sullivan, an employee at police headquarters. It shouldn’t be hard to track Ms. Sullivan down if need be. If Michael disposed of the invitation, Emily would remember the details for him.
In her heart, she knew they had to do this on his terms, no one else’s.
She crumpled the invitation once again and tossed it toward where Michael had left it. Crawling back into bed, she arranged the covers over herself but pulled aside a corner for him. He emerged from the bathroom and got in next to her, pulling her close. His lips at her cheek, he smoothed his hand over her abdomen. His thumb traced slow circles below her navel. It wasn’t long before his fingers strayed between her thighs.
She touched his hand. “I can’t, Michael. It’s too soon.”
“I don’t want to make you come this time. I just want to hold you.” His urgent whisper sliced into her heart, tearing her in two. She had a vision of her heartstrings splayed against her ribcage. He palmed her sex, but didn’t allow his fingers to wander. He simply held her there, receiving succor from her heat and filling her with his own. “Let me touch you here. You’re so warm and wet and soft. I feel good when I’m with you, Em. You make me strong again.”
She couldn’t refuse him. Emily spread her thighs so he could nestle his hand between them. True to his word, he didn’t try to stimulate her, although the very feel of him there made her want to grind against him. Squeezing her eyes shut, she held still and offered him her body and soul in the only way she could.
Within minutes, his heavy breathing told her he was asleep. It seemed strange to sleep with his hand between her legs, but eventually her eyelids began to droop as well.
His odd, intimate touch soothed her as well but his words haunted her dreams until daybreak.
